Toxic
by ThePirateSwan
Summary: CS AU. Emma has spent the last two years working for the FBI as a criminal consultant, under the care of her arresting agent Graham Humbert, but when her past starts to catch up to her, who can she turn to? Killian Jones just moved in next door. He's charming, charismatic, the perfect gentleman, but Jones has a secret, one that may change Emma's life forever. Insp. by White Collar.
1. Prologue

She hadn't seen him before. She knew she hadn't, and yet. He was so familiar. A connection from another lifetime perhaps? A wandering, fleeting thought? But it didn't matter. She was far too busy to contemplate such nonsense. Emma stopped staring at the man sitting across from her in the subway the moment he looked up. Their eyes never met. He looked long and hard, enchanted by her. He knew her from somewhere, but the place was slipping from him. He almost had it, and then it was gone. Nothing. A fanciful imagination, he had. Killian briefly shook his head and looked back at his book.

That night, she dreamt of princesses and ogres, pirates and giants. She fought for a life, a child and in the midst of it all, she saw something of a familiar face. Dark hair, eyes bright as the sea. His voice was far away, lilting and laughing. She smiled in her sleep that night. She would not remember it when she awoke.

Sunlight. Her hair was made of sunlight, rays breathing life into him, clearing away the darkness. He'd never felt truly whole before, but for a brief moment, she made him. He dreamed of her every night, awoke screaming for her, reaching out in a sweat soaked haze. But he did not remember. Perhaps someday he would.

Fate has a way of reaching out to two people, pulling them together. They would never know that they were meant to meet, meant to change and grow and complete. The universe works in a sort of design, predetermined before we are born and continues when we are gone. Death is not an end, it is merely a beginning. Life starts anew and fate, well fate leads us to where we must go.


	2. 1

**1**

**_Boston, Mass. 2009_**

"Sir! Suspect is running. We are in pursuit. Do you want us to apprehend?"

Agent Graham Humbert's hand glided smoothly to his walkie, deftly flicked the mic on and barked a quick confirmation at his team. He holstered his weapon and leaned back against the alley wall he'd used as cover. Finally, after two years of chasing, he was going to make the biggest arrest of his career. Graham smiled to himself, a small ornate gold coin playing between his fingers, winking at him, teasing. It was the only clue his culprit had left for him in all this time.

His walkie sounded again just before the report came in.

"Sir, suspect is in custody."

"Bring him in."

The junior agent on the other end paused.

"Sir," he sputtered through the tech, "the suspect is female."

* * *

Emma Swan waited patiently for her agent to descend upon her. She'd spent the last three years of her life running from him, playing cat and mouse just under his nose. She'd done a good job of hiding and suddenly, 11 months ago, he sneaks up on her out of the blue. He definitely wouldn't have been expecting someone like her—all blonde locks, innocent smile, and jade eyes. He'd be given information somewhere and she was determined to figure it out.

She heard the heavy footsteps echoing down the concrete hall. The harsh sound meant to be menacing no doubt, but she was far from worried. Emma leaned her seat back, hands cuffed to the unforgiving metal of the chair, feet resting atop the steel table before her.

"I'm ready to make a deal, agent," she said as Humbert stalked into the room and froze, eyes fixed on her. She grinned and rocked the chair lightly, it's creaking filling the silence that stretched out between them.

"You haven't been offered a deal." He moved a bit stiffly to the chair opposite her, hands folding in front of him neatly. Emma leaned forward, the feet of her own seat hitting the floor with a thud.

"Really? I've been in here almost a year out of the six I was sentenced for and you've decided to come visit me from the good of your heart? I don't think so. You need me for something."

"And what would that be, Miss Swan?"

Her grin widened, and it was so very tricky, so taunting. He didn't like the implications it held. She'd proven to be too clever by far. "I can help you find the others."

"And why would we need you to do that?"

She had to hand it to him—he gave nothing away through his body language, not even a hint of surprise to her words. Which meant she was right. "You tell me."

Emma settled back again, her relaxed posture hiding the anxiety well. Even if she was right, it didn't mean she was guaranteed to get out of this godforsaken place. Graham studied her, eyes boring into hers, but she didn't let up. "Even if you were right and the reason I'm here is for your help, why would it be you of all people? Why do you look so sure of yourself?"

"Because I'm the best at this. And you know it."

Agent Humbert ran a hand through his sandy curls and Emma, despite herself, found her eyes flicking to the tensing of his forearm muscles. He blew out a breath of air through his lips and quickly checked his phone. Chocolate gaze pinned her again, like an insect in amber. "Fine. Welcome to the FBI, Emma Swan."

**_Manhattan, New York, New York. 2013_**

The smooth flow and spicy, sweet smell of the wine set her almost immediately at ease. Emma handed one glass of the fine crimson drink to the tall brunette sitting across from her at the counter. Long, elegant fingers wrapped around the delicate stem and bright red lips smiled back at her. Her long hair was loosely braided over one shoulder as she shrugged and looked up mischievously, dark eyes sparking at her. Ruby Lucas was Emma's best friend, had been since they'd met in foster care all those years ago. "No one said I don't think he's cute."

"Ruby."

"Fine," she set the glass down and huffed. "He's damn fine, and I'd definitely jump him if he wasn't a fed." A glint entered her eye, one Emma was all too familiar with, and her fingers skimmed across her chin, lips curling.

"In fact, even that might not stop me."

"Ruby!" Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up and she set her own wineglass down to avoid spilling it and ruining the mahogany countertop. Ruby just looked so please with herself at that moment, arms folded across her chest in triumph at having caught her friend off guard.

"Seriously. You can't though. I mean what are you going to talk about? Your _career?"_ She scoffed and resumed drinking her wine, one brown raised skeptically.

"Who said I was going to talk to him? Emma, please. You're acting like I've never done this before, just because _you_ don't date doesn't mean I don't either."

"Well, yeah, but-" She was interrupted by the blaring buzz of her cellphone as it danced along the dark wooded surface. She sighed, checked the caller ID and picked up. "Yeah?"

"Emma. You need to come into the office. Right now. We have a new lead on the case." She rolled her eyes and mouthed "Graham" to Ruby, who proceeded to make kissy faces as Emma swatted at her, smiling. "Okay, just give me 20 minutes to get there." Hanging up before he even had a chance to respond, she sighed, looking around her loft apartment. It was nice- exposed brick wall where the door was, wood flooring, cream paint, pipes crisscrossing above. It was, by all accounts, her dream home. Took her a few expensive gems she'd been saving, but it'd been worth it. And the best part was she had it all to herself. She'd been able to convince Ruby that she didn't need a roommate, especially one with as colorful a little black book as her.

Ruby downed the last of her wine as Emma pulled on a thick black pea coat over her striped knit sweater and leather low-heeled boots onto her stocking-clad feet. Ruby rushed over, grabbing a bright red scarf off the hanger and swinging it around her friend's neck, holding the end lovingly. "Don't forget, a splash of color for your date!"

Emma rolled her eyes, tying the scarf carefully in a series of knots. "It's not a date. It's work. Besides, you know Graham. He'd never be able to get over his workaholism long enough to even _think_ about dating."

"Yeah, but I can always dream about it, can't I?" She smacked the Ruby's arm playfully and grabbed her keys.

"You're sick."

"You love me for it. Now go! Shoo! Fight crime! Just don't go after me, yeah?" Emma laughed bright innocent grin Ruby gave her.

"Don't have sex in my apartment while I'm gone and I'll think about it."

"No promises!" Ruby called after her as Emma raced down the stairs. Her shoulders slumped and she closed the door, making her way back to the bottle of red wine waiting in the kitchen. "Ugh, she needs to bang him already…"

* * *

The glass doors to the New York branch of the FBI slid open seamlessly as Emma walked quickly through. She flashed her ID pass at the security guard lounging in his chair, making her way into an empty elevator and pushing the 5th floor button. She stood, tapping her foot impatiently. She'd been working on this case with Graham for two months now, and though the perp wasn't the best, she was still surprised that he'd slip up so soon. _White Collar Crime Unit_, was written in embossed white lettering on the cold steel next to the elevator doors as they opened with a ping. Graham looked over at her as she maneuvered her way through the desks to the glass-encased office of their chief, smiling warmly.

"You're late," was all the greeting she got from her boss, Special Agent Regina Mills, who sat comfortably back in her plush leather chair, hands folded in her lap and one leg hooked gracefully over the other.

Emma glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. "Only by two minutes."

"Two minutes could easily have been enough time for our suspect to cover his tracks, Miss Swan. Be prompt."

"Yes ma'am," She managed to bite out, though the nearly overwhelming retort had almost slipped out in its stead. She cocked her head to the side indignantly and thankfully, Regina either didn't notice or didn't care.

She opened the manila folder in front of her and set out two photographs of an older man, late fifties wearing a black fedora, dark wash jeans and a deep blue button down. He was walking down an unidentified street and into a building near what appeared to be docks.

_Storage Unit 12_ – Hedgewood Storage Rentals was written on the side of the building.

"These were taken an hour ago by one of our CI's. We still have eyes on Mr. Pierre DeWitt and can confirm that he has not left the unit as of yet. I want you two to go down there and apprehend him. Swan, I implore you to think ahead. We can't have DeWitt escape this time."

Emma and Graham nodded sharply, walking out of the office. Graham called together four other agents as backup, reminding them to bring their firearms—Suspect was considered dangerous.

"Hello Miss Swan."

"Hello Victor." Victor Whale, junior agent working directly under Graham Humbert and, coincidentally, the current point of focus for one Ruby Lucas, checked his holster as he got into the elevator next to her with the rest of the team. He was a young man, not much older than Emma herself, with sandy hair, blue eyes and a strong jaw. He wasn't what she'd expected of an FBI agent, all flirtation and mischief, constantly trying to charm his way between women's legs. He flashed her a toothy grin as they got out and headed for the cars.

"You're with me. Like always," Graham smiled down at her.

"Like always." Emma agreed, following Humbert to his black FBI issue Jeep. They sped off like bats out of hell, sweeping through the late evening traffic towards the docks. It was strangely quiet out near the water, only a few souls occupying the area.

Pierre DeWitt. Emma had overestimated him, it seemed. When they'd first caught wind of him, he'd just stolen some fine antique silverware from a museum in Madrid. The authorities there had nearly gotten him when, as if by design, he fled the country, avoiding the blocks and alarms they had set in place in case of such a path. He'd entered the country, skipped over to New York, hocked off the cutlery through a local fence and gone underground. Last they'd heard DeWitt had been spotted in a club downtown just over three weeks ago. Until now, that is.

Emma carefully closed the passenger side door and surveyed the area, looking for any potential exit routes she'd have taken herself. One, two, three… That's it. A boat was docked just off the side of the storage complex, occupied by a lonely fisherman readying his nets. The sides were scuffed, a few dents visible even from her distance, and the man aboard was stocky, though not from muscle, Emma guessed. He'd be easy enough to take down if caught off his guard, the boat looked sturdy, well used – a good getaway vehicle. Only downside was the speed. Fishing boats were notoriously slow. There was always the way they'd come, she mused as she turned around; the gravelly road ran back towards the city behind them. Although, he'd have to get past the FBI agents there and Emma was willing to bet he wasn't stupid enough to gamble with that. Finally, and probably the best option, was to run through the storage units themselves, hoping to shake off the feds long enough t double back, hijack one of the cars and speed off to relative safety. A slow smile crossed her lips as she recalled how a certain yellow bug had come into her possession years earlier, but of course her reverie was cut short at the sound of footsteps around the corner from her.

Quickly, Emma slipped between two units, Graham following after, gun drawn at his side. Her breath suspended in her lungs, she inched out just enough to use her phone as an impromptu mirror to see around the corner. There he was, silver speckled dark hair, a heavy looking cardboard box in his arms, waddling through the units. Thankfully, he wasn't looking their way and Emma motioned for her partner to go ahead. Whipping out into the open, Graham aimed at DeWitt, shouting for him to stand down even as Emma called for backup at their location through the walkies. She heard the box fall to the ground, Humbert cursing and the distinct sound of running.

"Why do they always run?" she heard her partner grumble as he holstered his weapon and took off. Emma stayed where she was though. If this guy was even a _bit_ clever, he'd try come back this way, go the direction they weren't expecting. Sure enough, a few minutes later she could hear him jogging her way. Just as he was about to pass up her hiding space, she moved out and slammed him into one of the storage containers, twisting his arms behind his back for leverage as she called him in.

DeWitt groaned, trying to wriggle out of her grasp, but she just twisted harder and was rewarded with a grunt of pain and lack of movement. "You know, I thought you were smarter than this, Pierre. Honestly, I'm kind of disappointed," she taunted as the agents began coming around the corner. "Tell me, what were you even doing here? What's so important that you'd risk getting arrested?"

For his part, DeWitt merely chuckled, the sound dark. Like he knew something she didn't. "I'm not important. It does not matter if I am caught." The French accent was thick, making him sound even gruffer than he was and Emma responded by twisting just a bit more.

"Explain."

"You, Miss Swan, are the one who is important. And impressive." The feds were getting closer, almost within earshot. "They'll have a job for you soon."

She pulled his body back enough to shove him back into the ribbed wall and hissed in his ear. "Not gonna happen, buddy."

With that, she handed him over to Whale as soon as he reached them and stalked off towards the cars. She knew Graham was jogging to catch up to her, wanting to know was happened, but she didn't feel like talking. Not now. Not about this. To his credit, he didn't ask, just got in and started the engine. As they drove back Emma felt Graham's eyes dart to her periodically, studying her. After a while of sitting in traffic, he let out a long sigh. "Emma, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"If nothing happened then you'd be poking fun at me right now and we both know it." He grinned, all white teeth and Irish charm, and she couldn't keep the sour expression on her face.

"Well, if you couldn't catch _him_, then how the hell did you ever catch me, huh? It's kind of an insult actually." She pouted, and he barked out a laugh.

"There she is."

**Okay so let me know what you guys think yeah? And thank you j-j-sawyer-phillips for betaing! I lurv you right now. Like, a lot. **

**Review? *puppy eyes***


	3. 2

**2**

Files littered the black cotton bedspread in Emma's bedroom as she read them over. She had everything from testimonies to tracking fata, so what was she missing? The last two years had been spent trying to find the rat who tipped off the FBI and all she'd come up with was more paperwork – more questions. She dropped the file in her hand and sighed, fingers raking back stray strands of hair. She'd have to go back to asking her street contacts soon.

It was like they'd never existed. There was no record of them anywhere and Emma's nerves were beginning to fray. Graham couldn't help her, Ruby had scoured the rumor mill as much as she could and all she had to show for it was nothing, a big fat load of _nothing_. She fell back into the pillows, hair fanning out in a halo around her. Useless. Eye's fluttering shut, she drifted for a moment, vague images of falling dancing behind her lids – a dark haired woman, a strange land.

Something dropped and Emma's eyes flew open as she shot up, her attention fixed on the front door, just barely visible from her room. Getting up she slipped on a pair of flats and padded to the peephole, checking for the disturbance. What she saw was a dark head bobbing down below her line of sight and she frowned. Opening the door slowly, she peered down at the man crouched in front of her doorway. He was lean, a light form fitting sweater hugging his biceps and back. He seemed to be picking up what looked like the spilled remains of desk supplies. Opening the door fully, Emma crouched down next to him, quickly gathering papers and newspaper covered knick-knacks.

"Thanks."

She looked up into bright, deep, startling blue eyes and suddenly she couldn't seem to breathe. Blinking quickly she held out her hand, a polite smile forming.

"No problem. I'm Emma. Are you the guy moving into the apartment next door?"

The stranger took her hand firmly and shook, a grin on his lips.

"Yeah. Killian. Nice to meet you, lass."

_Seriously?_ The Irish lilt in his voice was enticing, but Emma immediately recognized the type. Foreign, charming, completely aware of the affect he has on women – in a word, dangerous.

"Nice to meet you too. Well, looks like we got it all. Good luck unpacking," she added as she got up, brushing the dust off the knees of her leggings and making for the door again. She didn't need the distraction that would surely come with getting to know this guy. She had work to do still.

"I'll be seeing you then," Killian's rough voice called after her as the door closed softly. He smiled to himself, putting his gathered things back in the cardboard box from whence they came. This one was going to prove to be rather fun, he suspected.

* * *

With the door firmly shut behind her Emma walked over to the kitchen. She reached up into the cupboard to grab some cocoa and cinnamon, snagged milk from the fridge to her right and set about preparing her hot beverage. It was damn cold inside, even with the windows shut tight. She'd have to turn on the heating soon enough. It was something she avoided due to the cost, but she didn't think she had a choice at this point.

The microwave beeped, the milk hot in her burgundy mug. Carefully taking it out, she set it on the counter and poured in the cocoa, stirring restlessly as she thought about the man outside her door. She'd have to watch that one. He was too sure of himself by far, she could tell from that cocky grin of his. Although, he was pretty hot. Emma was sure Ruby would just _love_ to meet him the next time she came over. She grinned at the thought of the brunette all but watering at the mouth from the sight of him. Oh, she was going to _love_ rubbing it in her face!

Turning around, she quickly got the can of aerosol whipping cream, coiling a dollop in her mug and putting it and the milk back in her fridge. She sprinkled cinnamon on top and brought the lip up to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent with an almost blissful feeling of warmth. It was her favorite thing to cure the coldness seeping into her limbs and she took her time sipping it, her fingers curled comfortably around the ceramic as she leaned on her elbows, blonde hair tumbling forward over her shoulders with the motion. Her thoughts drifted again as she stared absentmindedly at the brick faced wall, settled in contemplating the night of her arrest almost three years ago now.

_She walked through the warehouse, stopping at container 21 at the furthest end of the storage space. A lot of her heists had headed significant reward and Emma was careful to disperse the concealment of her goods, should anyone ever think to steal from her. This was the second of three hiding spots she had all over the city. She was quite proud of it in fact. She made her way to the opening and took out the key to the double tumbler lock. Inserting it, she turned until it clicked, then stuffed the key back into her jeans pocket and pulled open the double doors. _

_The sight was something, all gold plated dining ware, jewels hanging from hooks and spilling out of boxes, satin dresses and expensive looking chairs. She'd done it all and she'd loved every minute of it. But now was the time to call it quits. All Emma needed was a few gems to fence off to start anew somewhere. Maybe Vienna or Rome? She knew a bit of German and enough Italian to get by. Besides she could always learn more._

_It was as she was rummaging through a box of silks, looking for some specific low-key items to sell that she heard them come it. The doors to the warehouse banged open, armed agents quickly filling into the space. Emma dropped everything and scrambled out of the storage container, climbing up the side to get a hold of the hanging chains at the top. Grabbing two she knew led to a ladder going up to the near-ceiling windows above her, she swung, flying over agent's heads as she heard them shouting at her, calling for surrender. Hitting the metal hard, she let go of the chains and quickly went up to the windows. Getting over the edge of the sill, she shoved one pane open and smiled. Perfect!_

_Looking down she could see one fair-haired agent talking into his walkie, presumably to his superior about her unexpected escape route. Emma looked back out into the chilly open night and swung her legs over the side of the building, toeing for the pipe she knew would be there. _

_Hopping the last few feet to the ground she fell into a sprint, turning a corner and colliding with a hard chest. Before she knew it she was pushed up against a concrete wall, her arms forcefully pulled back, cuffs locking around her wrists with a click. _

_"Emma Swan, you are under arrest for possession of stolen property and suspected involvement with a number of thefts across the country…"_

_She stopped listening after that, frowning. How could they have-_

The phone rang, a shrill noise breaking Emma from her mind. She looked hard at the receiver, as if she could will it to leave her alone, at least for today. Sighing in defeat she set down her now empty mug and picked up, caller ID verifying what she already knew.

"Emma, you should come in. We have a new case and I think you're going to like this one," came Graham's slightly lilting voice. She could hear the smile there and suddenly she was curious as to who they were after this time.

"Alright. Be there soon."

* * *

They were gathered in the conference room again, surrounding the oblong table, papers strewn across it as light spilling in through the large windows covering two of the walls. Emma was still flitting through her pages, eyebrows raised in wonder.

"This guy can't be real."

Graham looked up from his computer and smiled. The projector buzzed on above her and the screen showed their perp's specs.

"No arrests, dozens of alleged crimes, no evidence left behind. The guy's a ghost. Interpol has been trying to track this guy down for a while and they received information that he might be here in New York. They don't know for what, they're not even sure when, but he's going to be coming our way. And that means we've got to get him. Emma, you know what I want from you."

The blonde nodded, though her expression still held a wary note as she looked back over her papers. This was ridiculous. She herself had only ever pulled off a handful of high-risk jobs, but this guy seemed to go for them exclusively. And he was _good._ She caught herself admiring his skill, shaking it off before it could take any root. Wouldn't do to _respect_ the criminal she was hired to track down.

But then again…

_No. Stop it. Pay attention to Humbert, Emma!_ Her eyes flitted back up to him, but he'd moved on to explaining something to one of the newer agents to the team. She took the chance to mull over the criminal profile provided. Charming, of course. Couldn't be a con without some degree of likeability. Highly intelligent and extremely cautious, most likely narcissistic, essentially all the trappings to have been the perfect partner when Emma herself was still active. Well, except maybe the narcissism. She smirked to herself, thinking of Ruby's borderline clinically inflated ego.

She turned her thoughts back to this "ghost" and sighed. He wouldn't be an easy catch. In fact, she wasn't certain she could track him at all, not if his record was anything to go by. Tapping her papers into a neat pile and slipping them into her folder, Emma got up and nodded to Graham. Her bag slung over her shoulder, she walked out to the elevators.

She had to call Ruby.

* * *

"She hasn't made any indication that she's gotten our invitation."

"Well what did you expect? A banner saying 'Come and get me!'"

The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, jaw clenching slightly in a mixture of annoyance and impatience.

"No. I didn't, actually."

"Well then," said the woman as she gracefully crossed her thin legs over one another and leaned back into her seat, "have some patience. She'll come around eventually. She has to."

A smile graced her bright red lips.

**You guys'll get way more Killian in the next chapter, I promise! Review?**


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